Young Blood
by PartyInTheNorth
Summary: Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin are co-editors of Ark High School's Yearbook, begrudgingly. How will they handle deadlines, power and blossoming feelings between them? A Bellarke High School AU.
1. Chapter 1

'You _knew_ I needed them by today!' Bellamy is shouting, as per usual, his boxer's temperament coming out again. Clarke stepped in before he could punch Jasper in the face.

'Come on, Bellamy, it's alright,' she said, 'It's ok if we get it in tomorrow.'

'Is this still the men's rowing team photos?' piped up Octavia from her lounged position across two chairs, looking up from her phone.

'Yeah, Jasper can't get them all together for a picture,' Clarke explained, stepping out of the way, although Bellamy's stern eyes followed her.

'I'll do it,' said Octavia, a cheeky glint in her eye, 'Grab your coat, Jasper, we've got sailors to catch.'

Bellamy frowned, but then sighed and rolled his eyes.

'Clarke, this doesn't change the fact we have three weeks to go and only two articles ready,' said Bellamy, 'I'm editor-in-chief of this yearbook and if we don't get it done, I'll be a laughing stock.'

'No one's gonna laugh at you, Bellamy,' cut in Raven, 'We've all seen the muscles on you.'

Clarke drew a sharp breath, as she so often did around Raven. Things had been a bit awkward between them since Finn made out with Clarke while they were in the Amazon on a conservation project. When they got back to school after that summer, Raven had moved over from Chicago claiming a three-year relationship with Finn. (Bellamy was desperate to put in an 'embarrassing moments' page in the yearbook with just that event, described in great detail, but the rest of the team had talked him out of it.)

'Look, I think it might be time to take on a co-editor, Bellamy,' said Raven in a pacifying tone, because Bellamy's vision for the yearbook was all-consuming and individual, and sharing the responsibility would figure somewhere around being eaten by sharks on his list of things he'd like to do. 'So you can get articles in quicker and get this thing finished in time.'

Bellamy breathed deeply. 'Who?' he said, through tightly gritted teeth.

Raven smiled. 'Clarke.'

'What about her?'

Mrs Griffin came in, dumping a pile of exercise books (English) on the desk before looking up at the students. Her hair was falling from its clip onto her face, and her face was red – either sunburn from the netball tournament she'd refereed at the weekend or a flustered blush from running here.

'I'm so sorry I'm late, guys, how's everything going?' Mrs Griffin asked, but before anyone could even answer, her phone rang. 'I have to take this.'

She turned into the corner, and the three of them got back to their conversation, knowing that it would be a while before they had their teacher's attention again.

'I think it's better if I stay sole editor.' Said Bellamy bluntly.

'Of course you do,' said Raven, 'And the yearbook might be finished in 97 years' time.'

'It's just…' Bellamy looked pained, 'I have a _vision_ for this yearbook, you know? I don't want someone else making decisions that don't fit.'

'You don't trust my judgement?' asked Clarke, tetchily.

'Bellamy, if you've actually looked at any of Clarke's designs this year, you'll realise she's got your design closer to your vision than your own attempts on Microsoft Paint,' said Raven (everyone was relieved Clarke had talked him out of using his own terribly-edited designs on the cover, taking the ideas from his designs and executing them perfectly herself in Photoshop.)

'It was provocative,' grumbled Bellamy. (It wasn't.)

'Look, Bellamy,' said Clarke, 'I like your artistic direction. I do. You have a great vision, and I would be delighted to follow it. But we're not getting anything done, and I can help take some of the weight off your shoulders.'

Bellamy looked at her, piercing her with his tense gaze, but didn't say anything.

'We're all stressed, Bellamy, you know, with college applications and SATs and everything, this is a hard time,' added Clarke. She hadn't thought about being editor, but now the idea was in the air, she _really_wanted to do it. 'It'll be much less work if we share it.'

'I'm coping fine,' Bellamy muttered.

Mrs Griffin hung up.

'Sorry guys, what have you been discussing?'

Raven and Clarke hesitated only a moment too long before Bellamy cut in.

'We've decided Clarke should be co-editor with me.' He said.

'Ok, that's great,' Mrs Griffin nodded, 'How's it all going?'

'Well, that's why Clarke's getting a promotion,' said Raven, grinning.

'Fabulous. Well, places to be, people to see and all that,' said Mrs Clarke, she kissed Clarke on the head, even though her daughter squirmed, 'Well done baby, I'm so proud of you.'

When Clarke unrolled her eyes from the top of her forehead, Bellamy was smiling at her.

'Let's get to work, morons.'

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this ridiculous AU! More coming very soon, watch this space! Special thanks to Anna (Annlia on tumblr) for helping me come up with most of the headcanons in this universe, and then being kind enough to let me write it!**


	2. Chapter 2

'My dad prides himself on being down with the kids,' said Wells, 'But I doubt even he'd let you get away with that.'

'Why not? It's genius,' said Bellamy, 'We could do it tastefully, like _Calendar Girls_, you know, themed items covering their modesty.'

'Have you asked the chess club if they even want to do this shoot?' asked Clarke, an eyebrow raised.

'I mentioned it… to Monty…' he muttered.

'Monty's down for anything, don't be ridiculous,' said Clarke.

'But-'

'Nope. Moving on.' (Clarke was enjoying her new-found power, and it was proving to be much more time-efficient.)

'Hey, Clarke,' piped up Finn gently, opening his scrapbook, 'I've been working on a piece about the protest we did last month, the Greenpeace sit-in?'

'That would be great, Finn,' she said, smiling at him.

'You've already got a piece on your hunger strike, Finn,' was Bellamy's response, almost at the same time as Clarke.

'Yeah, but there are multiple articles on the football team's successes,' argued Finn.

'Because people actually want to read about the football team,' said Bellamy, with a surprising amount of venom, 'But your little hippie group... not so much.'

There was a terrible silence in the room.

Finally, Clarke broke it, 'Maybe you should come along to the Charity Committee sometime, you might learn something, Bellamy.'

She turned to Raven. 'So, how are we doing on sponsorship?'

Raven had a spreadsheet ready printed, and the figures weren't good. They needed to raise money, and raise it fast.

'Why don't you just ask your dad, Wells?' Said Bellamy, and Octavia slammed her head down on the desk, surprised even after all these years at the extent of her brother's foul moods.

There was another silence.

'Well, why not? We've all seen the chauffeur pick Wells up, surely Mr Jaha's got a few cents to spare for us?'

'My dad doesn't fund the school out of his own pocket,' explained Wells tersely, 'And the school budget has been severely cut this year, you know that.'

'Easy enough for a little prince to say,' said Bellamy, and thankfully the bell rang for fourth period. Everyone got up to leave awkwardly, except Bellamy.

Clarke was still packing her things away when she realised they were alone in the room.

'Don't you have a class to go to?' She asked.

'Only American History,' he said, 'I'm skipping. It's all a bunch of rich white dudes signing things, who even cares?'

Clarke almost smiled.

'Why do you have to be so goddamn mean, Bellamy?' She spat, sitting back down opposite him.

'Because you love it, princess.'

He was smirking now, but staring at her with an unreadable expression still.

'Princess, right. Funny. My mom's only a teacher.'

'Better than being a scholarship kid,' he said, 'I have to fight ten times as hard as anyone else for anything in this school. God knows how I got this role.'

'You got this role because you're a good leader,' stated Clarke objectively, 'And a better designer than any of us.'

She stood up and threw her rucksack onto her shoulder.

She opened the door.

'It certainly wasn't for your good humour.'

...

For the rest of the week, none of them got to sit down for lunch even once: Monty eating bites of sandwich between photos, Raven barely glancing up from her computer screen as she shovelled pasta into her mouth.

On Friday, with double the number of articles finished as they'd had the week before, Bellamy and Clarke gave them the second half hour off, to get some air (although Monty and Jasper insisted on going to the dark room to carry on developing their photographs.)

Once everyone was gone, Clarke carried on editing the layout, trying different combinations of photos and text and snacking on Pringles as she went. She didn't even notice Bellamy was watching until he spoke.

'For the love of God, make that title purple,' he said, and Clarke sprang upright to the back of her chair, tensing when she felt Bellamy's hand, clenched around the seat, against her shoulder.

'I didn't realise you were looking,' she tried not to gasp, 'But, don't you think orange is better? It stands out more.'

'If you think so,' he said, 'Your artistic eye is much better than mine.'

Clarke turned in her seat, eyebrow raised, unable to believe that Bellamy was conceding to her.

The bell rang.

'Damn, I was hoping to finish this today,' sighed Clarke.

'What have you got next?'

'AP Calculus.'

Bellamy smirked, 'Skip it.'

'I...I've never skipped a class in my life, Bellamy,' she stammered, 'I can't...'

'Come on, Clarke,' his voice diminuendoed to a whisper, 'Live a little.'

Clarke met his stare for a long moment, and then cracked into a smile. 'Ok.'

They worked on the design together for three-quarters of an hour, not only finishing the article Clarke had been working on but reviewing all the design so far as well. Once they were done, they both flopped back in their chairs.

'Good work, co-chief,' laughed Bellamy.

'Back atcha,' Clarke replied, staring up at the ceiling to re-adjust her eyes after so long staring at a computer screen, although she could feel Bellamy's eyes boring into her.

'Hey, Clarke,' Bellamy said, after a long breath, 'Do you wanna go for a coffee? I think we deserve it.'

'I have Gym,' she protested.

Bellamy pulled the most sarcastic face imaginable, 'Come on, Clarke, not even _you _care about Gym.'

And so Clarke Griffin played truant for the very first time, riding shotgun in Bellamy Blake's banged-up car to a café downtown where he seemed to know all the staff.

They sat opposite each other, Bellamy with a flat white in front of him and Clarke sipping her hot chocolate (they did dark hot chocolate, it was too good to turn down!)

'The team's got a lot done this week,' Bellamy appraised, smiling at her.

'I wonder why that is,' smirked Clarke, sipping her drink.

Bellamy paused.

'Say it,' Clarke pushed, laughing, '_Say it!'_

'You're a great co-editor,' he admitted, looking down at his drink.

Clarke was satisfied, but now they'd run out of things to say about the yearbook. Clarke turned to the main topic of conversation amongst seniors internationally.

'What are you doing next year?'

Bellamy looked shifty, and Clarke felt a pang of regret that she'd chased away his good mood.

'I don't really know yet,' he said, 'I've applied to a couple community colleges but I… I'm not sure I want to go.'

'College isn't everything,' said Clarke.

'I've heard your SAT scores, Clarke,' Bellamy said, 'College is quite clearly everything to you.'

She looked down, awkward now. 'It doesn't _have_ to be everything, I meant.'

'No need to be nice to me, Clarke,' he said, 'You'll be a great doctor, anyway.'

**A/N: Thanks again for reading! Stay tuned!**


	3. Chapter 3

'This was such a bad idea,' groaned Bellamy, 'I'm so out of practice.'

'Just think of the prize money, brother,' said Octavia.

'You wouldn't be laughing if you didn't have that coat on,' her brother said grimly, shivering.

'Come on, Bell,' Octavia laughed, 'Keep that anger up, dude. Hey, the YB guys are here!'

'How you feeling?' Raven was the first one there, slapping Bellamy on the shoulder like she often cavorted with big boxers. (She did.)

'Good,' Bellamy said, 'Just really wondering why there's no heating in this building.'

'Nah, I mean...' Raven pushed her glossy dark hair back, leaning towards Bellamy, 'Are you gonna win this thing? I'm thinking of placing my own little bet, y'know?'

'Hey,' said Monty, taking a photo of Bellamy before he could prepare himself.

'What the hell, man?'

'I'm gonna get some great action shots tonight, man,' Monty explained, looking cheerful.

'Yeah, and he's gonna show me how to do it!' Jasper cut in.

'But Jasper...' Bellamy started to say, but the two were already gone, off with Octavia and Raven to find their seats, 'You're our sports photographer?'

'He was the only one who wanted the job,' interjected Clarke, standing next to her fellow editor and watching her team disappearing.

Bellamy turned to look at her. She was holding a hoodie, wrapped over her arm.

'Oh my god,' he said, shameless now, 'Can I borrow your sweater?'

Clarke frowned in confusion, but passed it over. It didn't fit him, but it was something to hug, to hold to his naked, shivery chest.

Then Finn arrived - he and Clarke weren't together any more, but they hung out a lot, and Clarke's disposition changed when he arrived. She moved away from Bellamy, and straightened her spine, letting a slight glazed look into her eyes like she was hiding something.

'Hey, Bellamy,' Finn said, all faint smiles as usual, 'You know I don't support fighting, but I'll be cheering you on.'

'Yeah, the YB needs the prize money,' Clarke smirked.

The announcer started speaking, and the crowd cheered, so Finn smiled faintly again, and gestured to Clarke that they should go.

Finn was away, but Bellamy had gone a little bit white. His expression was nervous, and not even her sweater was stopping him from shaking. Clarke lightly grasped his hand with just a couple of fingers. He span his head to her, confused.

'You can do this,' she said, 'I believe in you.'

She squeezed his fingers and then followed Finn without a backwards glance.

…

Clarke had never thought she would enjoy watching boxing. It had always looked too rough, too sweaty and gross to watch for more than 10 seconds.

But she was... really loving it. Every blow was powerful but oddly graceful, she admired the strength of the boxers' bodies, muscles rippling almost in slow motion beneath the industrially-bright lights.

Still, each time Bellamy got a punch in, and his opponent - a tall, well-built older guy named Lincoln - recoiled, eyes pulled tightly closed, Clarke felt a rumble of pride in her chest; but when Lincoln hit Bellamy, and she had to watch the grimace of pain spread across Bellamy's face, even with his protective helmet, Clarke's stomach shook, and her head went slightly queasy.

She was relieved and exhilarated when Lincoln finally went down and stayed down, and Bellamy whipped his helmet and shirt off to celebrate, raising his arms above his head. He was glistening with sweat, but Clarke longed to jump up and hug him, filled with nervous energy from the match. She calmed herself, and discussed the match with an aloof Finn, a buzzing Raven and finally Monty and Jasper, who raved about the beautiful photos they'd taken.

When they got back to the green room, Bellamy was showered and fresh, in jeans and a Jimi Hendrix t-shirt with his wet hair dripping onto the floor.

Everyone congratulated him, slapping him on the shoulder and grabbing his arm and generally touching him like they might absorb his strength from it. Raven swept in and gave him a hug, but Clarke awkwardly placed her hand on his bicep and patted to say well done.

'Well done,' Clarke said, half-smiling.

'Did you enjoy it?' He asked, like it really mattered to him.

'Yeah,' she answered, her smile broadening but not really enough to show just how thrilling she had found it, 'I'll enjoy the money more, though.'

She couldn't help herself - she winked.

Bellamy grinned.

'Are you coming along to the after party?' he asked, looking intently at Clarke, but then lifting his eyes to Finn to extend the invitation.

'Oh, no,' Clarke stammered, 'I have work in the morning.'

Bellamy looked annoyed.

'I'll drive you home, Clarke,' Finn offered, and Bellamy only looked more annoyed. Why was it any of his business if Clarke didn't want to party with him and his scary biker friends? It wasn't like they were friends.

'Fine. Raven?'

'Yeah, I'm down!' Raven smiled.

'Well done, Bellamy, anyway,' said Clarke, 'Where's Octavia? I should say goodbye.'

He shrugged, and Clarke set off to look for her friend herself.

Monty and Jasper hadn't seen her, but they had probably been staring at their camera screens for the whole time, snapping more candids of their friends and looking through the photos from earlier.

Eventually, Clarke wandered outside to the smoking area, the only place she hadn't checked. She saw Octavia's long, dark hair and purple dip-dye before she realised what Octavia was up to.

She went back inside to chat for a few more minutes before Octavia reappeared, hair mussed and lips swollen, closely followed by Bellamy's opponent, Lincoln. The pair of them came over to Clarke when she waved.

'Hey, Octavia, having fun?' she asked.

Octavia pouted, rolling her eyes exactly like her brother.

'Just getting to know the competition,' she smirked, and Lincoln blushed, uncomfortably meeting Clarke's eyes for a millisecond before going back to staring dotingly at the back of Octavia's head.

'I've gotta go,' Clarke said, and Octavia pulled a face before hugging Clarke and promising she'd have the field trip write-ups done by Monday.

Bellamy caught Clarke's eyes once more before she left, and he still looked disappointed.

(Clarke wondered when he would grow up.)


	4. Chapter 4

'Is everyone here yet?' Clarke asked loudly, hoping that raising her voice would get a reaction from at least someone.

Raven stood on a chair and looked around, moving her lips slightly as she counted heads.

'We're just missing Octavia,' she called to Clarke.

Octavia came through the door right then, accompanied by one of Bellamy's friends, a jock from the football team named Atom. (It might have been a nickname, most of them were too scared to ask.)

'Right!' Clarke raised her voice, 'It's yearbook team photo time!'

It took them ages to decide where to stand, but eventually they ended up with Clarke and Bellamy in the centre, the other seniors fanning out alongside them and the juniors sitting on chairs in front.

Atom took a few photos, frowning each time Monty slipped round to check all the settings on the camera obsessively, and eventually Monty decided they had an acceptable one.

They split apart, but Monty called out faster, 'No, no, no! I want a shot just of Bellamy and Clarke.'

The pair of them looked at each other, laughing, but nodded and agreed to it.

They stood together, Clarke taking a second to brush her hair off her face, and smiled.

'No, no,' Monty directed, 'Get closer in!'

Bellamy shuffled slightly further in.

'No, like a prom photo!'

Bellamy bit his lip and put his arm around Clarke's waist, making her stiffen instantly. (What were they, schoolchildren?) 'Just imagine your mom's crying and squealing and you'll know what to do.'

Clarke laughed, relaxing against his hand. They smiled, and Monty took the shot.

'Come on then guys, back to work,' called out Clarke, and within seconds their team was busily yearbooking. She looked around proudly, finally meeting Bellamy's eyes and smiling at him until he cracked and they laughed together. He placed a hand around her back companionably, and Clarke leant into him this time.

'I'm gonna go pick up some pictures from the dark room,' Monty said, putting the digital camera down on the table and picking up his bag.

'I'll come,' said Jasper, almost too fast.

Octavia smiled at Clarke slyly, but then got back to business.

'Do you want to see the 'most likely' page?' she asked, and Clarke sat down to look. After a minute, Bellamy came over too, and burst out laughing when he saw his name under 'most likely to be president'.

'Really? I don't even know what the senate is, dude!' he said, shoving his little sister.

'Hey, Bell,' she put her hands up in mock surrender, 'The people voted you in, you can't fight democracy.'

'Is Clarke up for anything?' he said, changing the subject. He met his co-editor's eyes with a sly smile as Octavia glanced over the list.

'Most likely to cure cancer,' Octavia said. Bellamy pouted jokily.

'Damn, I can't tease you about that,' he said, and Clarke felt herself blushing.

Octavia went off to help Raven with something, and Clarke sat awkwardly as Bellamy read the rest of the list, chuckling to himself at 'most likely to live in a cave with seventy sheep: Finn Collins.'

'Could you pass me those Pringles?' Clarke said, breaking the silence.

'Sure,' he passed the tube over without looking, and let his fingers linger on it slightly too long: long enough for Clarke to reach for it and inadvertently hold his hand.

And oh, God, oh God almighty, she would have thought that at 18 she would be too old for this nonsense: butterflies and electric shocks and a dizzy head. But when their fingers met, it sent a pulse through her heart, down to rustle her stomach. She suddenly felt hot all over, and once Bellamy's hand was gone and she could extract some chips, her hand shook so much that she threw crumbs all over herself.

She tried to get back to the article she was supposed to be proof-reading, but then she heard a grunt. She looked up at Bellamy, who was frowning like he was in great pain. Then she realised why. Bellamy was shaking his hand furiously, trying to loosen it from where it was stuck inside the Pringles tube.

Clarke burst out laughing, and Bellamy's frown turned into a smile.

'I'm stuck,' he said, 'Please don't leave me like this, Clarke.'

Clarke helped him to wriggle his way out, and then reached in herself to get him a chip. Bellamy grinned and opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out for her to place the Pringle on it. Clarke hesitated a moment, but then played along, dropping the chip onto his tongue as delicately as she could. Their eyes met whilst he crunched down on the Pringle.

'Hey, do you have the drama club photos?' Octavia asked, leaning on her brother's shoulder.

'No, Monty still has them,' Clarke answered, blushing as she felt Bellamy's eyes on her.

'I'll go get them,' Octavia said.

'I'll come with you,' Clarke volunteered, a little too quickly.

She stood up without looking at Bellamy and followed Octavia down the corridor.

'So,' said Octavia in a coquettish voice, 'You and my brother seem very close now.'

Clarke rolled her eyes.

'We get along,' she said.

'He really likes you, you know,' Octavia said, 'All of his stories involve you now.'

'We've had to spend a lot of time together working on the yearbook,' Clarke tried to explain, 'It's his passion, he talks about the yearbook all the time with me too.'

'Yeah, sure,' said Octavia, 'Keep telling yourself that – _oh.'_

Clarke whipped herself out of her thoughts and looked up. Octavia had just opened the darkroom door, and Clarke squinted into the darkness, to the table which Jasper was sat on, Monty straddling his lap and their lips searched each other's skin hotly.

There was a terrible silence as the two boys looked round to see who had come in, so stunned they didn't even spring apart like in the movies.

'We just came for the drama club photos.'

**A/N: Sorry it took so long, and then had a weird html problem! I'm home for the summer now so there shouldn't be too much of a wait between the next chapters, and thanks to the anon who let me know this chapter had gone weird! Enjoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

Clarke hadn't been planning on going to prom, despite Octavia's constant badgering that this was her last chance and she had to take advantage of it, but then she'd been asked, and she would have felt rude turning him down (even if he only asked her by text).

So she had been shopping with her mom, when Abby finally found a couple of hours free from her ten jobs, and picked out a strapless red dress, floor-length (her mom refused to back down on that point) and empire-lined. It was quite simple, but when Clarke came down the stairs, swishing the curls Octavia had put in for her down her back, her parents were both welling up.

'You look beautiful, love,' her dad said, and her mom blew her nose.

Just then, the doorbell rang, and her dad went to get it.

Clarke and her mom laughed as they heard her dad give a spiel about getting her home by midnight for which he had probably watched lots of teen films for 'research'. They weren't expecting her home by midnight anyway, she'd been invited to Monty's parent's summer cabin for an afterparty and they were all staying over.

'Come on in, son,' her dad said, and then he came back into the room.

'Wow,' said her date, 'You look stunning, Clarke.'

She smiled. 'Thanks, Wells. You scrub up pretty well yourself.'

Her mom helped with the corsage, and then Wells drove her up to school, where the prom was to be held in the gym. In fairness, they had decked out the gym well, so it no longer looked just like the room where she had been forced to run laps however many times, but rather like a ballroom with glittery confetti everywhere and strobe lighting giving tiny stop-motion glimpses of everyone dressed up. She got a photo with Wells for their parents to put on their mantelpieces, and then they went in to dance.

After a few minutes, Clarke was feeling too hot, so she tapped Wells on the shoulder and told him she was going for some punch. She was almost at the table when she saw him. He looked damn fine in a suit, she had to admit, hair neatly coiffed back and looking a lot like some Hollywood secret agent.

Their eyes locked, and she couldn't help herself as her feet moved towards him.

'Lookin' good, chief,' she said, smiling as she lowered her eyes.

'You….' Bellamy's tone was much more serious, 'You look beautiful, Clarke.'

She swallowed. 'Do you want a drink?'

He nodded and they went over for punch. Clarke silently prayed that someone had spiked it (she could have done with a bit of liquid courage) but it was all fruit.

They stood together silently for a moment, avoiding eye contact but standing close.

Then, a touch. Warm, long fingers catching hers among the folds of her dress, coarse skin and smooth satin mingling and sending shocks up her arm. She pulled away instinctively, but then downed her drink and turned to Bellamy.

'Do you want to dance?'

Bellamy smiled and nodded, and put his glass down on the side. Then he took her hand (shocks again, why always the fingers-in-a-plug-socket feeling?) and led her across the room to a corner where she didn't recognise anyone. His other hand clutched hers, but for now Clarke kept her head down and swayed uneasily.

The song ended, and a sexy dubstep beat came on. To Clarke's surprise as much as Bellamy's, she knew how to dance to this. Her hips moved effortlessly in circles, her arms raised up above her head, and Bellamy's hands fell to her waist, palms open against her skin, moving up and down strongly. Clarke closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, Bellamy's face was close to hers, his eyes gazing into hers.

And then the song ended, fading cheesily into… oh God, was that a Grease megamix?

Clarke grinned, and started to dance like she had as a middle schooler, but Bellamy's hands remained on her waist, and his face close to hers.

Eventually, she convinced herself her need for cool air was more important than this new need for Bellamy's touch, and she coaxed him outside with her. They sat down on the low wall outside the gym, side by side.

'You know, I can't stop thinking about how great a doctor you're gonna be,' he said, nudging her with his shoulder.

'And you'll be a great president,' she laughed, remembering the 'Most Likely To' list.

Bellamy stiffened. 'I don't know what I'm gonna do with myself.'

'Have you applied to college?' Clarke bit her lip, remembering his anger last time she had asked.

Bellamy shook his head. 'My SATs weren't too bad, but I… I just didn't want to. I went on campus tours and I didn't like them.'

'It's not for everyone,' Clarke put in.

'Just the good kids.' His tone was attacking.

'Bellamy, seriously,' she seized his hand and made him look at her, 'You have incredible leadership skills, you work harder than anyone I've ever met, and… you could do _anything_.'

A tiny smile came to his lips. 'You think so? Even without college?'

Clarke nodded emphatically. 'Get an internship, get a job, and build your way up. They have to see the potential in you.'

A full smile came to his lips now. 'You're no passionless slacker yourself, princess.'

She returned his smile, and then whispered, 'I believe in you, Bellamy.'

He wanted to kiss her then. He wanted to sweep her up into his arms and carry her to the ends of the earth – or just to his bed, where he could bite that red dress off her, but not bite her skin, no, never! Only gentle kisses, kisses that would tell her how he felt about her, how much he admired her and felt supported by her and how much he was flat-out attracted to her.

But then Finn came up behind them. 'Hey, guys, I thought you might be out here!'

Finn was off his face, blind drunk, so conversing with him was difficult, but Clarke shot Bellamy an apologetic look before she half-carried him back inside to get some water.

They weren't alone again for the rest of the prom, nor in the car on the way to Monty's cabin, nor all night there, where everyone chatted loudly and played singstar (and with shaking heads ignored Monty and Jasper kissing each other's necks all the time).

At 4am, when most of the crowd where asleep, top buttons undone and high heels off, Clarke went to sit on the veranda for some fresh air.

So, she was in love with Bellamy. And she had as good as told him. _I believe in you? _It was hideous. What was she, a Disney princess? People didn't say shit like that in real life. But maybe he loved her back? His thousand-mile stares were more often than not aimed in her direction, and he had been the one that reached for her hand at the punch stand, hadn't he? But Bellamy was a lot… cooler than Clarke, he had one night stands and 'fucked' college girls, and Clarke had only ever slept with Finn, after months of dating. Maybe she was just a conquest, maybe he just wanted something casual?

'You're still up?' (Oh God, he was _here.)_

Clarke didn't look around. She couldn't.

'Couldn't sleep,' she answered.

She felt the floorboards shake slightly with his footsteps, and then the tremble as he sat down beside her, his legs dangling off the edge along with hers.

Neither of them said anything for a long while, until finally Bellamy swung his leg over to nudge hers.

'Who'd have thought it, we can both shut up,' he said, and finally Clarke turned her face sneakily to glance at him. He was staring at her, though, so he caught her eye instantly.

'We must be exhausted from all that yearbooking.'

Bellamy sighed. 'It's been great working with you.'

Clarke smiled. 'And you.'

Then there was silence again, but somehow they didn't need to say anything. With their eyes locked in to each other's gaze, everything that had been left unsaid suddenly felt alive and vocalised. Bellamy looked away first, choked up and gasping as he looked down.

Clarke felt her cheeks grow hot, but she knew what to do now. She reached across and put her hand on Bellamy's face, raising it to meet hers as she leant in and kissed him. He didn't even pause before he responded in kind, his tongue in her mouth and his hands on her waist. He lifted her by her waist onto his lap, shuffling back so he could lean against the wall of the cabin. Clarke relaxed into him, her head spinning with the feeling of Bellamy's skin against hers, the musky scent of him, the pressure of his body –_Bellamy liked her. He really did._

He really knew how to kiss a girl, delicate and passionate at the same time, letting out little grumbling sighs that made Clarke shudder. His hands glided up and down her sides and her back, and finally one came up to cup her breast, massaging softly. Clarke gasped against his mouth. _How was he so good at this?_

_Oh. _Clarke pulled back steadily, unable to stop the thoughts from coming into her head: all those girls Bellamy's lips had kissed before, all those girls who'd probably felt exactly as she did, all those girls who meant nothing to him… just like she would.

'What's the matter?' Bellamy whispered, his beautiful face furred with concern.

Clarke bit her lip. Swallowed. 'It's nothing, I just…' she braced herself. She should just enjoy herself for tonight, not worry about the future, not get attached. But she couldn't. 'I really, _really_ like you, Bell. I can't just be… one of your girls…'

Bellamy stopped and looked at her, then raised his hands to cup her cheeks. 'Clarke, you mean everything to me now,' he said, 'I've been… casual in the past, but you aren't like that. I really, _really_ like you too.'

Clarke licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry as a bone. Then she started to smile, a grin splitting across Bellamy's face at the same time.

'Clarke Griffin,' he said, taking her hand between both of his, 'Will you be my girlfriend?'

Clarke laughed aloud. She kissed him chastely on the lips. 'Yes.'

And then they kissed again, not so chastely.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long, again! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I think I'm gonna write one more chapter, just a closing epilogue. And I promise it won't be 2 weeks this time!**


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke's phone rang again, and she wiped her scruffy hair back from her sweaty forehead before she picked up.

'Hello?'

It was the publisher's, again, still no closer to finishing the printing and getting the yearbooks to school in time for graduation. Clarke put the phone down and made a noise halfway between a sigh and a growl.

Bellamy's hands touched her shoulders from behind, massaging softly.

'Clarke, go home and get ready,' he said gently, 'Graduation's in three hours.'

'You need to get ready too,' she protested, but her concentration was elsewhere, as Bellamy came closer and nuzzled behind her ear, his hands dropping to her waist to hug her from behind.

'Get a room, losers!' called Octavia, who wasn't graduating this year and hence had been called in to help with the final push to get the yearbook out in time.

Clarke was a little embarrassed by how many times Octavia had caught them: draped across each other, asleep, the morning after prom; a few days later doing a Monty and Jasper in the darkroom; going rather further than hopefully Octavia noticed when she came into Bellamy's room to get a stapler – the list went on.

Clarke's phone rang again.

'_Miss Griffin_?' it wasn't the prim receptionist any longer, but the boss of the company, a brisk woman who barely waited for an affirmative before continuing, '_Good. Your order is ready, I'm so sorry for the delay._'

'Oh, fantastic!' she sighed, and Bellamy raised his eyebrows optimistically.

'_We'll deliver them within the next two hours,_' the woman on the phone said, '_I'm sorry again.'_

Clarke enjoyed the power of saying a cold thank you and then hung up.

'They're done!' she yelled, and everyone in the office cheered. Octavia ran over and leapt up into Clarke's arms, wrapping her legs around Clarke and Bellamy both.

'Get down, kid,' laughed Bellamy, pulling his little sister off his girlfriend. He took Clarke by the shoulders. '_Now_, go and get ready.'

…

Her palms were sweating like two small waterfalls, and she hoped she wasn't visible shaking as much as she felt like she was.

'And now for a speech from our valedictorian,' announced Principal Jaha, and Clarke caught Wells give her a thumbs up from the front row, 'Clarke Griffin.'

Her speech was just right – thanks to Wells' dad's and Bellamy's help – and she got a great round of applause afterwards.

And then the ceremony was over. They had graduated.

Her mom gave her a bear hug the moment she could leave her seat, and then whispered in Clarke's ear, 'I am _so _proud of you, darling.'

Her dad was there next, embracing her just as tightly… and then Wells. He hugged her, then held her by the shoulders, at arm's length. 'If you go so much as a week without calling me, I will come to your dorm and stand under your window and not go away.'

Clarke laughed. 'You creep,' she said, but then made the smile drop from her eyes and pulled them wide. 'But ditto.'

She ran into Raven by the drinks table, stood with Finn.

'Good speech, boss,' Raven said, grinning, 'When do we get to work?'

'We'll go get the boxes in ten,' she answered, 'Pass it on, if you see the others.'

She waved across at Monty and Jasper, looking awkward with their respective parents (neither of them had told their parents yet), and then spotted Bellamy coming towards her. He was with his mom and Octavia, but he still came right up to her and threw his arms around her, planting a soft, PG kiss on her mouth and then stepping back, a smile on his lips that became something unreadable in his eyes.

'Well done, Clarke!' Octavia squealed, throwing her arms around her friend. When Octavia came away, Clarke finally noticed Finn behind her, glowering.

'Didn't realise you guys were together,' he muttered, moving closer to Clarke so she could hear him.

'Yeah,' she affirmed, 'We're happy.'

Finn tried to put on a smile. 'I… I guess I'm man enough to admit I never really got over you, Clarke,' he stammered, 'But I wish you all the best… in the future.'

'You too, Finn,' she murmured.

'It's time,' smiled Bellamy, taking her hand, 'Let's get this yearbook on the road.'

Clarke didn't know what the future held, but with these people in her life, it was all going to be amazing.

**A/N: Sorry it was short (and shit), but thank you for sticking with me! I have another Bellarke fic up my sleeve soon, so keep an eye peeled. Thanks again!**


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